R's rue

Yesterday I highlighted  Angle Inlet - the most northerly settlement in the forty eight contiguous states of America. Today I am heading further north - to Alaska in fact. That is where you will find the most northerly location in all of America. It is called Point Barrow and its co-ordinates are 71° 23′ 20″ N, 156° 28′ 45″ W. Though it is a remote spot and pretty inhospitable in the depths of wintertime, the area had special significance to  indigenous Iñupiat  people for over a thousand years before Point Barrow was "discovered". It was named after Sir John Barrow, a senior figure in the British Admiralty. That was as recently as 1826. Frederick Beechey named the headland on behalf of Sir John Barrow At Point Barrow there are burial mounds and there have been other archaeological finds. Even today it remains a base for Inuit fishing and hunting trips. I am pleased to note that the nearby village of Barrow had its name changed back to Utqiagvik in 2016. How...

 Heading to PT today. One body part feels stronger, another feels weaker. Working on balance is testing my mettle. I’m a flailing whale, not a graceful gazelle. I know everything takes time, but do I feel pangs of what if. Why did God make me this way, where marching in place for thirty seconds straight makes my equilibrium shake. It also doesn’t help that I’m woefully out of shape. That’s a whole other issue. I can only handle one at a time. I had to talk to my best friend to remind me that CP is one part of my story, and I’m finally learning the other parts of my story. The world has defined so much by that one part, and so have I. Here’s to learning who I am. I really don’t know who I am now, versus who I was before. It feels so odd getting to know all of myself. It’s very odd, but a little exciting. Do I write the story of the scared being afraid of its own shadow, to breaking free of my own expectation. That is the question. I can’t answer that right now. I’ve spent a life, hi...

  The seasons seem to be hurrying along this year after a bloody awful winter.  It’s May already and the start of the month means that my Montana Clematis is in flower again. It covers the garden gate arch with pretty pink flowers and suddenly the back garden is transported back in to a secret garden again. Private and enclosed as it was always designed to be. We’ve had too many bank holidays , I’m sick of them from Going Gently https://ift.tt/FYJKI4m